


Surrender the night

by bluejbird



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Insomnia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-21 23:03:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9570764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluejbird/pseuds/bluejbird
Summary: Jim suffers from insomnia at the best of times. After their defeat of the Narada, no one is really sleeping, least of all the new captain, who probably needs it most.Leonard knows that getting off always helps Jim sleep. And when he offers to help, it's just a CMO taking care of his captain. Nothing more. At least that's what he keeps telling himself.Or, the one where Bones provides a helping hand to Jim so he can sleep.





	

In the entire duration of the almost-three-years they spent together at the academy, Leonard has heard just about every rumour possible about James T. Kirk. Depending on who you listen to, Jim is a long lost Deltan prince, an escaped deviant felon, or Pike’s illegitimate child. But the most common rumours are about about his sex life.

People seem to think he’s some kinky, sex-mad idiot who sleeps with a different partner every night. And okay, the first part may be mostly true, but Leonard had roomed with the guy for almost the entirety of the time they’ve known each other, and he’d know if the second part was in any way factual. Mostly because he’d have asked for a different room assignment if he’d come home to a sock on the door handle even once.

Sure, Jim has a darn sight more notches on his bedpost than Leonard does. Maybe more than most people in their class. Or even in the entire Bay area. But there’s nothing wrong with that as long as you stay safe and healthy, and Leonard has some well rehearsed tongue lashings he doles out when needed to ensure the former, and some hyposprays to ensure the latter.

The rumours don’t bother Jim, so they don’t bother Leonard either. And it’s not that he’s spent a lot of time thinking about Jim’s sex life, but being observant is an occupational trait. So he picks up pretty quickly that Jim uses sex as a cure for the insomnia that he stubbornly refuses to treat medically, no matter how many times Leonard has offered to help. 

Jim’s never said actually said that’s why he does it, of course, and it’s possible that Leonard is wrong, but he’s a scientist and smart enough to know that the obvious answer is generally the correct one. And the evidence seems fairly clear. In general, Jim doesn’t show much interest beyond casual flirting. And casual flirting is just a part of Jim being Jim, just like being able to tactically predict his opponent's plans three moves ahead. Or just like how he knows exactly how to get under Leonard’s skin just enough to loosen him up without making him angry. It’s just who Jim is.  

Leonard’s watched Jim flirt like it’s going out of style, has watched the object of his attention being so certain they’re about to be taken home and shown a good time, to then have Jim back off completely and head home alone or at Leonard’s side. And he’s seen Jim saunter off with women and men and aliens (although generally not all at the same time), having told Leonard not to wait up, or having asked if there’s any chance he’ll stay out of their shared dorm for a few hours. But those times only seem to occur when Jim has been pulling all-nighters for days, reaching the point where he’s too exhausted to sleep, where he’s so bone weary that Leonard considers forcing enough sedative on him to get a few hours shut-eye, even though it won’t reset his sleep cycle the way Jim needs.

But every time Jim takes someone home or goes home with them, he’s always almost back to normal the next day, and  back to just flirting and being his annoying but charming self until the next bout of insomnia comes along.

From a purely medical point of view, it’s fascinating to Leonard. He surmises that for it to work Jim needs to find his release with another person– he’s accidentally heard Jim jerking off before (something he tries very hard not to think about) and knows that it’s never broken Jim’s insomnia spell. So when Jim asks him to keep out of their room for a few hours, Leonard is mostly happy to, knowing that it means Jim won’t walk around with bags under his eyes and a perpetual yawn for at least a little while. And if there’s a small tug of annoyance when he finds himself back at the clinic or in the library instead of in his comfortable bed, Leonard tries not to question the reason for the frustration he’s feeling. 

Then Vulcan is destroyed, and they defeat the Narada but lose the warp coil, and none of them really sleep for days on end. There’s too much to do, and too few crew to accomplish it. Between the repairs, and being unable to ignore the fact that the remains of half of their classmates and Starfleet in general are scattered amongst the stars, and the flagship being run by a bunch of kids who haven’t even graduated yet, it’s a miracle they’ve managed to stay in one piece this long. And not that Leonard likes to stroke Jim’s ego all that much, but he’s pretty sure that Jim’s the reason not only that they survived, but that they’ve somehow kept going.

When the dust starts to settle, and everyone begins to get back to as normal a schedule as they can, it’s hard to get back to normal sleep schedules after so much stress. So Leonard hands out sedatives just like he’d been handing out stims only a few days earlier.

Even Jim comes for a sedative, then another the next day when it doesn’t work. Leonard knows that means the lack of sleep is bad, bad enough for Jim to swallow his pride and ask for help. He watches the dark circles deepen under Jim’s eyes, and recognises the signs of insomnia itching under his skin. 

“How long’s it been?” he asks, running his scanner over Jim out of habit. Jim doesn’t even pretend not to know what Leonard is talking about.

“I get an hour or so, here and there. I just can’t seem to switch my brain off.”

Jim takes the sedative that they both know won’t work, and leaves.

Leonard sits at his recently inherited desk long past the end of shift, frowning at his hands. Because he knows exactly how best to help Jim. Knows what, medically, he needs. But he can’t decide whether it’s ethical to offer it.

He could use drink to help with the decision, but even though there’s a bottle of scotch in the bottom drawer, it doesn’t seem right to drink it. Not when it was placed there by a man who should be at this desk, who should be barking orders at Leonard and the rest of the medical staff. So Leonard does paperwork until his eyes start to ache and he can’t stand to be in sick bay any longer. 

Somehow, without making a decision, he finds himself outside Jim’s door. Technically it’s Pike’s quarters, but Pike is in sickbay in a medically induced coma and will stay that way until they find help. And Jim is, somehow, incomprehensibly, the acting captain. 

Which is precisely why it has to be Leonard who offers to help. Because there are enough rules and regulations that Jim’s broken to get where they all are – safe, alive, about to fight another day – that he won’t want to break many more.

Jim doesn’t look particularly surprised to see him, but he does look tired, and the sedative clearly hasn’t worked.

“I’m not going to beat around the bush,” Leonard says. “I know it’s been awhile since you got laid. And I know that’s one of your coping mechanisms, when you can’t sleep.”

“How the hell do you know that?” Jim demands, but doesn’t deny it, and doesn’t even look all that surprised that Leonard knows. 

“Does it matter?”

Jim shrugs. “There’s not much I can do about it until we reach a space station, or Earth,” he says. “I’m not going to fuck this up by fucking a random crewmember.”

“You don’t need to fuck anyone,” Leonard says. “I can help. As...as your doctor. As your friend.”

“Bones–” Jim looks pained, and Leonard knows he’s about to refuse. And it would be easier to let him, to shrug and walk away and hope that whatever damage the lack of sleep is doing to his body and psyche is reversible. But he can’t. He can’t because this is Jim, his best friend, who he needs to be okay. And he can’t because this is their captain, the glue holding the buckled and broken ship and crew together. If the captain’s job is to keep the crew safe and alive, then it’s the job of the CMO to do the same for the captain.

“Jim,” Leonard says firmly, putting his hand on the other man’s chest, silencing and reassuring. “You need to sleep. Let me do this for you. Please.”

Jim’s mouth opens, and his expression says he’s going to protest. But no sound comes out. Instead he closes his eyes and nods. There’s a pained expression on his face as if it hurts to ask for help, but it’s edged with relief, and Leonard knows then he’s made the right decision.

Leonard doesn’t wait for Jim to change his mind. He just manhandles him over to the bed, nudges and shoves until Jim lies down, and climbs on beside him. When he looks up, Jim is looking at him with wary eyes. There’s excitement in there too, the sort of look that Leonard’s seen Jim give to people he’s interested in. Leonard tries not to read too much into the look. 

“What...how?”

Leonard hushes him. “Just...close your eyes if you want.”

Jim’s eyes meet his for a long stubborn moment, then he sighs, and does what he’s told. 

As soon as Jim’s eyes flutter shut, he reaches out and undoes Jim’s pants, sliding his hand inside. There’s no preamble to it, not chance to let himself over-think, second guess, chicken out. 

Jim’s cock twitches as soon as Leonard’s fingers brush against the soft skin. It makes Leonard’s heart jump into his throat and he swallows hard, pushing it, and any longing he might feel, down where it belongs. It’s important that he reminds himself who he’s doing this for. For the Enterprise. For Jim. For his friend. Not for himself. 

Gently, he slides his fingers around Jim’s cock and eases it out of his pants. Jim helpfully lifts his hips, and Leonard uses his free hand to ease Jim’s clothing down, just enough to get easy access. Then he pushes up his shirt so that he can see the hard lines of Jim’s abs.

“Is this okay?” Leonard asks, hating the way his voice catches in his throat. He coughs, clearing it, and hopes Jim didn’t correctly interpret the need in his voice.

“Yes,” Jim hisses out, rolling his hips up just enough that his cock nudges the back of Leonard’s hand.

“Stop me if you change your mind,” Leonard says, because it’s important that this is what Jim wants, that he’s comfortable. When he glances at Jim’s face his eyes are still closed, bottom lip drawn between his teeth.

Jim just nods, and that’s the permission Leonard needs. He takes the lubricant out of his pocket – he’s a doctor, so of course he’s well prepared – and squirts some onto his hand. He hesitates for the briefest moment before sliding his fingers around the shaft of Jim’s cock. Jim shivers at the touch, stomach muscles quivering, and Leonard repositions himself, so that he can slowly slide his hand along Jim’s length. 

Touching Jim like this should feel strange. At least that’s what part of Leonard’s brain is arguing as he tries to keep things as clinical as possible. 

He’s seen Jim naked before, of course. It’s difficult to live in the tiny dorm rooms at the Academy without accidentally seeing your roommate in the altogether, and that’s even without having a body confident exhibitionist like Jim Kirk as your roommate. And Leonard has held other cocks before, just like this, although generally there’s been more passion and urgency, and often more intoxication too. Being sober and holding his best friend’s cock isn’t exactly what Leonard had expected to be doing, but then again, being acting CMO on a starship that just saved the world isn’t on that list either, and here he is. 

So in the grand scheme of things, it’s not all that strange. And it doesn’t feel as uncomfortable as it probably should. That, again, is something Leonard pushes aside and tries not to think about. 

Leonard touches Jim the way he touches himself, varying the grip and speed, adding in an occasional twist as he nears the head. Leonard has jerked off his fair share of men and he’s always looked at their faces to gauge their reaction, to get it as perfect as possible, but he can’t bring himself to look at Jim. If he did, it would mean so much more than he can allow it to. It would feel personal. As if Leonard has earned the right to touch Jim like this. Instead, he’s just a CMO helping out his captain, his patient. He plays that like a mantra in his head, over and over, repeating with each stroke of his hand.

So he keeps his eyes on Jim’s cock (which is only slightly better), and tries to pretend that it’s just his own dick he’s jacking off. And he certainly doesn’t commit to memory how it feels and what it looks like.

Jim’s hips thrust up as the pace quickens, and Leonard knows he must be close. Jim’s been mostly quiet, nothing more than a few grunts, nice and clinical and nothing more. But when a soft moan escapes his lips, Leonard knows what’s about to happen. He milks Jim through the orgasm, only looking at his face right at the end to make sure it’s not too much, that his cock isn’t too sensitive to the touch. Jim’s eyes are open, looking straight at him, and when Bones looks up he looks away, turning his cheek against his pillow..

“Thanks,” Jim breathes out. In the silence that follows, Leonard tries to work up the courage to say something, anything, that will make everything feel as normal as it should. But before he can speak, he realises Jim’s breathing has slowed. Leonard watches the steady rise and fall of his chest, listens to the almost snore, and smiles.

He can’t help but feel proud of himself, achieving his task so quickly, so easily, and with so little emotional attachment. Plus his own cock has barely shown any interest, making it easy enough to ignore for now.

Leonard carefully tucks Jim’s cock back into his pants as best he can, covers him with a blanket, and lowers the lights. Then he slips into Jim’s bathroom and washes his hands, careful to avoid his reflection in the mirror. He doesn’t want to acknowledge whatever might be written across his face. 

Then he heads back to sickbay for something to do, and very carefully doesn’t think about Jim until he runs into him not even four hours later in the corridor, receiving a report from an ensign from engineering.

“You’re supposed to be asleep!” Leonard accuses. He’d be annoyed regardless – Jim needs his sleep and is off duty and really shouldn’t be working when he could be resting – but the fact that Leonard literally had a hand in the matter makes it more frustrating that Jim has woken already. 

Jim shrugs, apologetic. “Too many things to do. Besides, I got at least forty winks. That’s better than nothing.”

“Hmph.” Leonard narrows his eyes. “I’ll see you later then,” he adds, half threat and half promise. Jim gives him a polite, professional nod, and carries on towards his destination with the ensign.

The feeling of disappointment that surges through him isn’t welcome and isn’t a surprise, and he knows it’s irrational. He is Jim’s friend and his doctor and nothing more and Jim’s reaction is perfectly appropriate. What they did – and what he suspects they’ll have to do again – is hardly a standard medical procedure for these situations, and he certainly won’t be recording it in his log. And if Jim has even a smidge of the judgement Leonard knows he has, he won’t mention it in his logs either. So the lack of acknowledgement in perfect is not only right, but necessary. Which doesn’t stop it smarting, just a little. 

It also doesn’t stop him from fetching Jim twelve hours later from the bridge, physically dragging him away by the elbow, forcing him to eat something vaguely healthy, and then herding him back to his room.

“You still need to rest,” Leonard insists, when Jim tries to protest, saying he has work to do, things to check on. At Leonard’s words, Jim becomes suspiciously compliant, and even gets into bed without being manhandled.

“Are, uh...you going to help me again?” Jim asks. He doesn’t meet Leonard’s eyes, and Leonard tries not to ponder whether Jim’s tone had been hopeful or expectant or curious.

“Yes.” Leonard is calm professionalism, at least on the surface. He makes sure his clenching hands are hidden behind his back, because the urge to reach out and touch Jim is disturbingly powerful, and he doesn’t quite know why. “If you want me to. Unless you think you can sleep on your own?”

Jim shakes his head. “No, I mean...please.”

Leonard nods, once, and climbs back onto the bed. This time Jim gets up to shuck off his own clothes. He removes his shirt, then hesitates momentarily, before removing everything else. Leonard tries not to stare as Jim reclines on the bed, as buck naked as the day he was born, legs slightly spread. It’s an attractive sight, something that Leonard thinks even the most stalwart professional couldn’t deny. His cock is hardening as Leonard watches, without even being touched yet, and Jim’s thigh muscles twitch at the snap of the lubricant opening.

Leonard slides his hand around Jim’s cock in the same way he’d done the first time, until Jim’s hand reaches down and grabs his wrist. Leonard’s heart thumps painfully in his rib cage, loud enough that he’s sure Jim must hear it, and is bound to comment on it. But Jim says nothing, just uses his grasp on Leonard to change the rhythm, and Leonard, quick on the uptake, figures out it’s what Jim prefers. He saves the information away in the back of his head. Purely for medical reasons, of course.

Jim comes quicker this time, and he passes out quicker too. Leonard goes through the same routine – cover Jim up, dim the lights, wash his hands. But instead of heading to sickbay, he goes back to his own quarters, has a shower – sonic, so he won’t be tempted to linger under the wet heat – and goes to sleep pointedly thinking about anything but Jim.

The next day he learns that, once again, Jim only slept for a few hours. And neither of them are surprised when, once again, Leonard turns up at his door at the end of his shift. They don’t speak much, other than the briefest of reports of their day, as Jim sheds his clothes and Leonard tries not to watch. But it feels more comfortable, somehow, to hear the sound of Jim’s clothes hitting the floor, as if, even after only doing this twice before, it’s become a sort of routine.

Leonard remembers the rhythm Jim had shown him and uses it. Jim’s grunts are louder this time, slipping out between his clamped shut lips, lifting his hips higher to meet Leonard’s hand.

The grunts become moans, and Leonard sees Jim’s throat work, as if he’s trying to swallow them down. Leonard’s hand clenches involuntarily, and he feels the shift in Jim, sees the movement in his muscles as he responds to the tighter touch. Leonard slows his strokes enough to slide his gaze up the length of Jim’s body to meet his eyes, which are open and watching him.

“Can you–” Jim starts, then shakes his head, falling silent.

“What?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Jim,” Leonard huffs out, exasperated. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” Jim’s eyes close, and there’s a pinkness to his cheeks that might be exhaustion or excitement or embarrassment. Leonard can’t tell, and for a moment he envies Spock, for his ability to sense emotions through touch. To know what Jim is feeling would help him make sense of his own emotions, swirling in tangled confusion in his head. “I just...sometimes it helps if, uh, you touch my balls.”

Leonard stares at him for an unblinking moment, long enough that Jim cracks open one eye to peer at him.

“You don't have to,” Jim adds hurriedly. “I just–”

Leonard shakes his head. “No, I can...I can do that.”

He reaches out with his free hand, sliding his fingers across the wrinkled skin, feeling the weight of them against his palm. Jim’s hips shift, shudder and thrust, and then Leonard is jerking Jim off again, rolling his balls gently between his fingers.

The truth is he hadn’t forgotten about them. It had just seemed more intimate than was necessary. In the entirety of their friendship, Leonard has never denied anything that Jim has requested of him – at least nothing reasonable. He’s always had the feeling that nothing had been handed to Jim in his youth, and it had always taken effort for Jim to work up the trust and courage to ask for something for himself. So he’s not going to deny Jim this. And it does feel more intimate, less clinical, and Jim certainly seems to enjoy it, the way he’s stopped swallowing down his moans. Leonard finds he enjoys it more, too, both of his hands working together. He’s not sure if his enjoyment stems from the new sensations beneath his fingers, or from Jim’s own pleasure, but it’s enough that he can feel his own cock hardening, pressing against the seam of his pants in a way that’s equal parts exquisite and agonising.

He feels the shift just before Jim comes, the way his balls draw up towards his body, giving Leonard the briefest warning before the come spurts and oozes between his fingers.

Leonard’s hand is halfway to his mouth before he realises what he’s doing. He catches himself, ignoring the way his mouth waters, curious to taste the come streaking his hand. Guilt and embarrassment mingle as his eyes flick up to see Jim watching him. The expression there is unreadable, and it’s Leonard’s cheeks that burn now.

“Well,” he says, trying to cover his embarrassment. “I hope that’s...I mean. Sleep well.”

“Thanks, Bones,” Jim says, soft and languid, and by the time Leonard has washed his hands, Jim is snoring loudly into his pillow. 

Leonard goes back to his newly inherited office and kills time writing reports, trying to replace the memory of soft skin underneath his fingers with the feeling of the cool screen of his PADD.

~~~ 

The fourth and fifth time Leonard goes to Jim’s quarters are the same routine as before, except with the embarrassment easing slightly each time Jim sprawls naked on the bed, completely unselfconscious. Jim acts like what they’re doing is the most natural course of action, matter of fact and grateful at the same time. 

But the guilt is starting to seep through the blockades in Leonard’s mind. He finds his thoughts slipping now, as he’d jerks off alone in his darkened room, chasing a dreamless sleep for himself. No matter how hard he tries to think of anything else, anyone else, the sensation of how Jim’s cock feels in his hand won’t go away. Worse still, he finds himself wondering how it would feel to have their roles reversed, to have Jim’s hands on his body, jerking him with the rhythm he now knows Jim prefers. 

When he comes, eyes open wide and staring into the darkness, with Jim’s name on his lips, the shame washes over him immediately. He knows he’s been fooling himself, that as much as this has been about helping Jim, it’s been about helping himself to things he has no right to. It’s completely inappropriate on a professional level, to fantasise about a patient. And it’s a complete betrayal of the friendship he values so highly. Leonard has worked hard, over the past few years, to push down whatever feelings he might have for Jim, knowing how unlikely it is for them to ever be returned. 

Leonard has always considered himself to be an intelligent man, and he knows now that despite his best intentions, despite helping Jim, he’s certainly not doing himself any favours. And he knows that he needs to put an end to what they’ve been doing.

He barely sleeps, fitful and anxious, and when his communicator chimes he’s almost grateful for an excuse to stop pretending and start to face the day. His relief is dampened when he hears Jim’s voice, asking him to come to his new ready room. 

Leonard considers making up an excuse, just to postpone the awkward interaction a little longer, but he can’t disobey his captain. So he acknowledges the summons, and dresses hurriedly. He wonders if he’s the only one Jim has called, if perhaps Jim is going to put a stop to this, and save Leonard from having to find the difficult words he needs to say. 

But when Leonard arrives in the meeting room, Spock and Scotty are both there. Scotty is shifting in his chair impatiently, obviously anxious to get back to work. In stark contrast, Spock sits quiet and unmoving with perfect posture, waiting for the meeting to begin. 

“Bones!” Jim exclaims, voice full of genuine happiness. “Nothing major to report, but I wanted to get us all together to discuss where things are at.”

Leonard slides into a seat opposite Spock, relief flooding him that he has a valid distraction, a good excuse to push his troubled thoughts aside for at least a short while. He doesn’t look at Jim, although he can feel Jim’s gaze resting on him. 

“At current speed we will reach the nearest starbase in 7.3 days,” Spock reports, “An increase in our impulse speed would be preferable for an early arrival, to begin urgent repairs.”

Scotty shakes his head. “I’m giving it all she’s got, Captain. I don’t want to risk pushing her too far, and losing that too. Or worse, creating a catastrophic overload.”

“Understood,” Jim says thoughtfully. His attention is on Scotty, and Leonard takes the opportunity to study Jim. Jim sits with one leg crossed over the other, completely at ease in his position, despite the weight of them all on his shoulders. Leonard can’t help but marvel at how deftly Jim has stepped into the role of captain. It suits him, and Leonard feels a swell of pride in his chest. He remembers the long nights they’d spent drinking, where Jim had talked of his plans to captain a starship. Someday, he’d always said. They’d both assumed that someday would be far, far into the future. 

“I think we’d all agree,” Jim continues, and Leonard slides his gaze away before Jim’s focus shifts to him, “that it’s better to get there in one piece. Our supplies seem to be holding out. And apart from morale, which is understandably low, I think we’re in as good a shape as can be expected.”

“The entire crew could do with a more relaxed schedule, if we can manage it,” Leonard interjects, and attempts a smile when their eyes meet. He knows it doesn’t quite meet his eyes, but the warmth in Jim’s gaze doesn’t dim. “We’re still having worryingly high requests for stimulants, and equally high requests for sedatives. Taking people off double shifts would be a lot healthier, and more sustainable.”

Jim glances at Spock, who pauses to think, then nods.

“Done,” Jim says. “And I think we’re done here too. Unless anyone has anything to add?”

Jim gets to his feet, and the rest of them stand to leave. Scotty hightails it out of there, presumably heading straight back to Engineering, and Leonard plans to be close behind. He’s at the door when Jim calls after him. 

“Bones!”

Leonard hangs back until Spock leaves the room, nodding at him with respect that is begrudging but well earned.  

“My quarters, tonight?” Jim asks, when they’re alone.

Leonard hesitates. Because this is the time to say no, to claim to be busy, or straight out tell Jim that the ‘treatment’ has run it’s course. 

But there’s a hopeful look in Jim’s eyes, one that reminds Leonard of how young Jim still is. He thinks about all of the responsibilities playing on Jim’s mind, and thinks he would have trouble sleeping in Jim’s position. Hell, he’s had trouble sleeping himself, and that was before this whole thing with Jim started. He doesn’t blame Jim for wanting that release with someone he knows and trusts. Not when he needs sleep so desperately.  

Leonard knows he should say no, but it’s easier, so much easier to say yes.

Leonard straightens his shoulders and nods.

The grin he gets in return makes his heart ache in his chest, and his stomach churn in disgust at himself for agreeing so easily.

~~~ 

When Leonard walks in to Jim’s quarters – he’s stopped knocking now, and the computer just lets him stroll in – Jim is already stretched out on the bed, fully clothed. He looks sleepy and relaxed, and it makes the tension inside Leonard relax a little too. The difference in Jim since the first night is remarkable. The dark circles are gone from under his eyes, and the general aura of weariness seems to be easing.

“How’s the fatigue?”

Jim shrugs. “It’s getting better. I’m getting more and more sleep each night. So, uh, thanks for that.” His cheeks blush pink, but he holds Leonard’s gaze. There’s a heat there that makes Leonard shift uncomfortably. 

“Don’t mention it. Maybe after tonight you’ll be back to normal and able to sleep on your own.”

Jim frowns, and for a moment Leonard thinks he’s said the wrong thing, that maybe Jim has been enjoying what they’ve been doing as something more than a means to an end. He doesn’t dare get his hopes up – he’s squashed them down so often over the years that Leonard is fairly sure they firmly know their place. But then a bland smile slips onto Jim’s face. 

“Here’s hoping,” Jim agrees.

“Same as before?” Leonard asks, hoping he doesn’t sound disappointed, as Jim gets up to remove his clothing. 

“Sure,” Jim says, dropping his clothes in a heap on the floor, and climbing back onto the bed. “Unless…” he hesitates, then lifts his chin, as defiant as when he’s facing down his enemies. “You can say no,” Jim continues, “if you want to. But...something that has worked better in the past is, well. Using mouths rather than hands.”

His expression is almost too carefully blank, giving nothing away, and Leonard stares at him for a long moment. His mouth waters at the thought, and he has to suppress a shudder of excitement that shoots through his body.

He licks his lips thoughtfully, and thinks for a moment that Jim’s gaze follows the path of his tongue.

God help him, he wants to do it. He knows he shouldn’t, knows that this has gone far beyond professional misconduct and friendship betrayal, knows that it’s going to hurt him deeply and painfully when Jim is back to normal and they act like this never happened. But he’s in so deep now that he thinks he might as well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb.

“Okay,” Leonard hears himself say, and gets a moment to enjoy the look of shock on Jim’s face before panic surges through him, because, really, what the hell is he doing? “If that’s what you want,” he adds, hopefully covering his reaction.

Jim swallows hard, his adam’s apple bobbing. For a moment, Leonard thinks he’s going to say no, play it off as a joke. But then he nods. “That’s what I want. Please.”

“Sure,” Leonard tries to say, but the words stick in his throat. Instead, he just pushes at Jim until he’s lying back on his pillows, watching Leonard with his mouth hanging open, as if he can’t quite believe Leonard has agreed to this. 

Leonard arranges himself between Jim’s spread legs, making himself comfortable. It’s different to how he normally sits off to the side, within equally easy reach of Jim’s cock and a quick escape out the door for when Jim is asleep. But for this he needs better access, closer contact. 

He wets his lips, then licks at his palm, before grasping Jim’s cock at the root. He squeezes just enough to hear Jim gasp, and can’t resist looking up along the length of Jim’s body as he fits his lips around the head.

Jim is staring back at him, chest hitched up as if he’s forgotten how to breathe. As Leonard presses his tongue gently against the slit of Jim’s cock, Jim huffs out all of his breath in a low moan, and his eyelids flutter shut. There are a thousand sensations rushing through Leonard’s mind – the smoothness of skin against his tongue, the salty taste of Jim, the heady scent – and he struggles to focus on his prime mission of getting Jim off. 

Taking the moan as encouragement, Leonard takes more of Jim into his mouth, sucking as he moves his tongue. There are tiny, keening noises escaping from Jim’s throat as Leonard starts to move his hand and mouth in time, slow and easy without any hurry.

After a few strokes, he slides Jim’s cock back out of his mouth, licking a long wet line up the underside of the shaft, then moving down to tongue against Jim’s balls. Jim’s hips snap upwards, and Leonard can see his thighs tremble, as if he’s trying to stop himself from thrusting up even more. If this thing between them was personal, if it was more than what it really is, Leonard would happily encourage Jim to thrust up, to swallow him down until the back of his throat ached. But it isn’t, and he can’t. 

The thought of it makes his mouth water even more though, and it makes it easier when he returns his mouth to Jim’s cock. He takes Jim in a little further, increasing the pace of movement, faster and gripping a little tighter with his hand. Jim’s hand lands suddenly on the back of his head, startling him enough that he jumps and Jim’s cock hits against the roof of his mouth harder than he’d intended. Jim hisses a little, but his fingers slide into Leonard’s hair, holding him in place. Leonard can’t bring himself to look up, but he leans into the touch. It’s solid and commanding and the pressure tells him Jim wants him to start moving again.

It feels good, better, like this, and Leonard has to fight the urge to reach down and cup his own cock, which is pressing almost painfully against its confines. Jim’s little finger brushes the skin at the nape of his neck and sends electric shocks down his back, before stuttering in its movement. 

It lets Leonard know that Jim is close, and he wonders if he should pull away, finish Jim with his hand like usual. He starts to move back, but Jim’s hand is still there, holding him in place. Leonard doesn’t fight it. He’s wanted to taste Jim, needed to taste him. A reward for risking his heart to help his friend. 

“Fuck... yes... Bones,” Jim grinds out through his clenched jaw, tightening his hand in Leonard’s hair as he comes, spurting hot and bitter and salty across Leonard’s tongue.

Leonard swallows it all down, keeps moving his hand and keeps breathing, despite the panic that’s rising in him at Jim’s words. Because no matter how he’s thought about this in his head, no matter how much he’s let his emotions interfere with something they shouldn’t, there’s always been at least a little separation, enough of an idea that as far as Jim’s concerned, it could be anyone bringing him to completion. That it could be anyone helping him beat away the insomnia with nightly orgasms. And that’s helped him keep the hope and wishful thinking to a minimum. But now that Jim’s said his name it’ll be a fight to keep that wanting for Jim to feel the same at bay. 

When Jim’s finished, Leonard pulls away, sitting back on his heels. It takes awhile to summon the courage to look at Jim. Unlike all the previous times, where he’d passed out within seconds after coming, he seems awake, wired even. His eyes are bright and fixed on Leonard, and it makes Leonard’s heart twist painfully.

“Bones,” Jim says again, breathless and red in the face, and Leonard slides off the bed, because he can’t hear whatever Jim has to say. Not unless he’s willing for his heart to never stop aching. 

“I, um, I have to go,” he says quickly. He heads for the door, doesn’t look back, even though Jim calls after him. He makes the briefest stop in his own quarters to brush his teeth, chasing away the unforgettable taste of Jim, and to allow himself half a dozen heavy-handed strokes to deal with his traitorous cock, still hard and turned on by what happened. 

And Leonard wonders if now, every time Jim calls him by the ridiculous nickname he’d bestowed upon him within hours of their acquaintance, he’ll remember the catch in Jim’s voice, and taste the hot tang of him on his tongue. He wonders how much it’ll affect their working relationship, or whether he’ll be able to drink the memory away, like he’s done with so many others he didn’t want to face.

When he’s done he sleeps fitfully, dreams of black holes mixed with memories of their time at the academy, when life was simpler.

The next day, Leonard finds himself drawn to the bridge. Regardless of how he’s feeling, how confused he is, how much his heart aches, he has to check on Jim to make sure he’s sleeping, and to reassure himself that at least what they’ve been doing has been worthwhile. And, if he’s honest, to test his ability to work together, and see how hard he’ll have to work to repress his feelings to save their friendship.

But Jim isn’t on the bridge.

“I stopped by the Captain’s quarters when he did not report for his shift, and discovered that he was asleep,” Spock explains, looking comfortable, if stiff, in the captain’s chair. “Human physiology requires far greater rest than a Vulcan’s, so I was happy to change our shifts to provide cover.”

Leonard ignores the subtle dig, thanks him for the information, mildly berates him for not informing the CMO that someone was unable to perform their duties, and leaves. He still can’t quite trust Spock with the same easiness that Jim does, but he’s glad to see that the Vulcan had enough sense to let Jim sleep.

Outside Jim’s quarters he considers asking for permission to enter. But it’s become habit to just walk in, and he’s willing to pretend nothing unusual happened, so long as Jim plays along. So he enters, finding Jim sound asleep. Leonard pauses long enough to note the steady rise and fall of his naked chest. There’s a satisfaction, to knowing that however it’s made him feel, Leonard is the cause of Jim’s peaceful sleeping. It makes the ache in his chest start to ease.

He goes about his daily duties, and tries to pack away the sound of his name on Jim’s bitten red lips, the weight of Jim’s cock on his tongue, into the back of his mind where he can try to forget about them. 

He manages a full shift without snapping at anyone, and even joins the other officers for dinner in the mess, before retiring to his quarters to attempt to read a book, something to quiet his mind. 

When the door chimes, he gets up absently to answer it. It shouldn’t be a surprise to see Jim standing there, but Leonard finds himself staring dumbly, caught off guard. Jim looks more well rested than Leonard has seen in weeks. Years even – before the Narada, before the Kobayashi Maru, before exams and term papers and summer survival camps. 

“Bones,” Jim says, softly. “Can I come in?”

Leonard suppresses a flinch at the name. As he suspected, the name is a punch to the gut, a forced memory of having Jim stretched naked before him, pliant under his touch but still out of reach. A burst of panic makes him want to say no, to make an excuse, but instead he just steps aside. “What can I do for you, Captain?” he asks, feeling a pang of regret at his formality when he sees Jim’s pained expression.

“Don’t,” Jim says. There’s a hint of pleading to his tone, and an underlying edge of anger.

“How did you sleep?”  

“Fantastic.” Jim‘s grin is wide and genuine. “I...thank you. I appreciate it. And, I think you know, I enjoyed it too.”

“That’s…” Leonard stops himself, letting the sentence hang in the air, unfinished for a long time. “What I’m here for,” he finishes eventually, which isn’t what he’d originally planned to say. “I mean, that’s my job.”

“The thing is,” Jim says, settling himself easily into a chair. There’s an air of confidence to him, the kind he has when he’s certain about something, cocky with the hint of self-satisfaction. Leonard’s never really had this side of Jim directed at him before, and given the circumstances he’s not sure he likes it. “I don’t think that’s why you did it. I think you did it because you’re my friend. And maybe more.”

“I am your friend,” Leonard admits, ignoring the rest of what Jim said. “You know I’d do anything for you.” 

It’s the truth, and Jim knows it. In those idle conversations at the academy, where Jim had talked about being a Starship captain, and Leonard his CMO. It had seemed a pie in the sky scenario, but even so, Leonard hadn’t needed convincing. Duty and love were the only two things that could drive him out into the black, and Jim knew it. 

“I hope that you did it because you wanted to, too,” Jim says. He looks serious, and Leonard avoids looking him in the eye. “Because I’d hate to think you felt you had to. And I’d hate to think that you didn’t enjoy yourself.”

“I–” Leonard wants to deny it. He shakes his head, running his hand through his hair, and tries not to think about the weight of Jim’s hand there the previous night. “Jim, this isn’t fair.”

“No, it’s not,” Jim readily agrees. “It’s not fair because I got all the benefit. So it’s time I repaid the favour.”

He stands up and walks towards Leonard, who is still standing, nervously close to the door.

“I’m not having trouble sleeping,” Leonard says weakly. He meets Jim’s eyes, and right there is exactly what Leonard has been secretly hoping to see. Longing. Want. Love.

Jim chuckles. “Fine then,” he says. “Then do it for me. I still need help sleeping and you know what would really, really work? Being fucked, hard and good. By you.”

Leonard swallows. “Jim, be serious.”

Jim fishes something out of his pocket and throws it at Leonard. Leonard fumbles, but manages to catch it. It’s the lubricant he’d taken to leaving in Jim’s quarters.

“Are you sure?”

“Bones,” Jim sighs. He gives Leonard a fond, amused look. “I’d love to have a long, in depth talk about how you’re in love with me, and how I’ve been in love with you since pretty much the moment we met. But I think right now we’re both too exhausted for any of that. So what I think we’d both enjoy is crawling into your bed and having some sex that, if it’s half as good as what you’ve been doing to me for the past week, will be utterly mind blowing.”

“If we do it here, you’ll fall asleep in my bed,” Leonard protests weakly.

Jim raises an eyebrow. “I get the feeling we’re going to be doing that a lot, from now on. So might as well start now, right?”

Leonard opens his mouth again, searching for something to say.

“Unless you don’t want to.” Jim looks uncertain, something that Leonard isn’t used to seeing. Jim is confident and full of cocky arrogance even when he’s bluffing. “If I’m wrong, Bones, say the word. I’ll leave, and we’ll never talk about this again, and everything will be just as it’s always been between us.”

They stare at each other, and for a moment Leonard considers telling Jim to go. It’d be easy. Easier than admitting his feelings. Easier than opening himself up to the risk of being hurt again. 

Then he thinks about what they’ve all been through. How many lives have been lost, how many torn apart. And life seems far too short to not at least try for what he wants. 

So Leonard shakes his head, and Jim steps towards him, closer and closer until Leonard could reach out and touch him, if he was brave enough.

“So that’s a yes, then? You do want this?”

“Yes,” Leonard says. It’s hesitant, but when he sees the smile spreading across Jim’s face he says it again, clearer and with more confidence. 

“I can’t believe your lips have been on my dick, but not on my mouth,” Jim says, and kisses him, pushing him towards the bed. 

Leonard laughs against Jim’s lips, enjoying the feeling of Jim’s hands on his body, helping him to shuck his clothes. It’s a nice change from him only being allowed to touch Jim, not letting himself think about how it would feel to have Jim return the touch. It’s easy to relax into the feel of Jim’s hands sliding across his body, easing away the guilt he’d felt on their previous nights together. 

“Okay?” Jim asks, kissing his way down Leonard’s throat, and Leonard swallows, nods, and reaches for Jim. 

Apart from the first night, each time they’d met Jim had undressed himself. It had made sense and was appropriate for it to be that way, even if his hands had itched to touch. So now it feels like a privilege, almost, to be allowed to nudge Jim away from him long enough to grasp the hem of his shirt and pull it up and off. It messes up Jim’s hair, but not his grin, which looks wider and even more pleased with himself than he had before. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Leonard asks, undoing Jim’s pants and easing them from his hips to puddle on the floor. He can’t hide the frustration in his voice, driven by the knowledge that all of his angst and guilt could have been eased earlier with just a handful of words. 

Jim looks away for a moment, then shrugs. “Because I wasn’t sure,” he says. “I wasn’t sure if you felt like I hoped you did.”

The words echo how Leonard had felt for so long, and he can’t blame Jim. Not when he’d never had the courage to speak up either. 

So Leonard nudges and pushes until Jim climbs onto the bed. 

“Face to face,” Jim insists, and Leonard doesn’t argue, moving to kneel between Jim’s spread thighs. He feels less self-conscious than he’d have thought, naked in the bed that has only been his for a handful of days, with the man who had once merely been his roommate and best friend, and was now his captain and, somehow, something more. 

“When did you know?” Leonard slicks his hand with lubricant and glides his fingers along the length of Jim’s cock, enjoying the way Jim’s breath hitches when he moves across his balls and then further behind. 

“When I remembered how easily I could read your expressions,” Jim replies, eyes scrunched shut as Leonard moves his fingers against his entrance, pushing gently inside. “And when I realised that you wanted more. Wanted to taste me.”

Leonard raises an eyebrow, stilling his hand long enough that Jim makes a protesting noise and opens his eyes. 

“Bones!”

“So everything after that…?”

Jim grinds down against Leonard’s hand. “An experiment? A hopeful one. When you agreed, I figured you were either the best friend anyone ever had, or you wanted something more.”

“Right on both counts.” Leonard rolls his eyes, moving his hand again to open Jim up. “As always.”

Jim’s answering laugh is accompanied by a smile that is white and toothy. But both slide away as Leonard curves his fingers, brushing in just the right place inside. 

“Bones,” Jim moans, low and urgent. “Bones, I think we’ve spent enough time on the foreplay. You should fuck me now.”

Leonard takes a moment to study Jim’s naked body, in all of the detail he hadn’t allowed himself before. He watches Jim writhe, watches him cant his hips upwards, and thinks that he could keep Jim like this, on the edge, for as long as he wants. But what he wants most of all is to finally touch Jim, to finally let his aching cock feel something other than his own hand. So he slides his fingers out of Jim and slicks himself up with lube. 

Then he hesitates. “Is this…” Leonard stops, hating how the words sound in his head, needy and insecure. He doesn’t want to say out loud what he’s thinking. Because what he wants to know is whether this is going to be like all the other times Jim has fucked someone to help him sleep, and then moved on to someone else. 

And he knows, or at least thinks he knows that’s not the case. That this is the start of something bigger. But it would be good to hear Jim say it, to chase the spark of worry away, if he could only find the words to ask. 

But Jim seems to have read his mind. He props himself up on his elbows and catches Leonard’s eye. 

“This isn’t about me needing to sleep,” Jim says firmly. “This is about me needing you.”

Leonard lets out a shuddering breath, then surges forward and kisses him. It’s a sweet kiss, full of promise. 

“You’re killing me, Bones,” Jim groans against his mouth as he pulls away, and Leonard takes the hint. 

He lines himself up and pushes inside, and he knows immediately that he’s not going to last as long as he’d like. But as he starts to move, and as Jim lifts his hips to meet him, Leonard thinks that it doesn’t matter, because he’s sure that this won’t be the last time. 

~~~ 

When Leonard awakes the next morning with a crick in his neck and pain in his hip, he feels more exhausted than when he went to bed. He’d go back to sleep, but someone is in his room, whistling happily. 

He cracks open an eye to tell whoever it is to go forth and multiply, and to let him sleep, and is greeted by the sight of Jim’s shapely naked behind heading into the washroom. 

When Jim emerges a moment later, Leonard automatically slides his gaze away before remembering that it was okay for him to look now, and to appreciate the view. 

“Rise and shine, sleepyhead,” Jim says, sounding bright and awake. There’s a spring in his step as he walks towards the bed, and Leonard recognises the change in him. It’s the same as all of the times he’s seen Jim break free of the insomnia and he’s relieved, with only the tiniest sliver of doubt. 

He sits up as Jim approaches, and lifts his chin to meet Jim’s kiss. 

“I feel like I slept for days,” Jim tells him afterwards, sitting down on the bed and reaching for the clothes they’d abandoned on the floor the night  before. “I feel ready to face the piles of requisition forms and messages from the Admiralty.”

He dresses quickly, and Leonard yawns and stretches as he watches him wordlessly. 

“When our shifts are over,” Jim adds, pressing another brief kiss to Leonard’s lips, “I thought we could have dinner and then come back here.”

“Oh?”

Jim starts for the door, then pauses. “I don’t know what it is,” he says, “but I just sleep so much better in this room.”

“Must be the company,” Leonard says, and Jim smiles. It’s not his wide cocky grin, or his bland smile, but something soft and special. 

“Yeah,” Jim says, “something like that.”


End file.
